Harry Potter And The Fall Of The Jedi
by Jed Rhodes
Summary: Harry Potter, Jedi Master, fights in the Clone Wars, not realising that this is a trap lifetimes in the making, about to be sprung... sequel to Harry Potter And The Sith Conspiracy.
1. Hogwarts

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft, Wizardry and the Force, was, by any stretch of the imagination, a miracle of stonework.

The castle had, in the four short years since the two hooded and be-robed figures had last seen it, become a sanctuary for the Jedi Order of this universe. Hundreds of robed figures, similar to themselves, kept going in and out of the building, on their way to places. As the two figures entered the building, they saw younglings practicing with the lightsabre.

"He is truly magnificent," the shorter of the two figures said, her voice soft. "To have achieved all of this…"

"We always knew he was good," the taller figure agreed, his voice harder, older, but soft as well, when he was with her. "But will he come with us?"

"He has to," the woman said. "We need all the help we can muster."

As they walked, they marvelled at the sheer beauty of the building. It was a mixture of the stonework they remembered, and the high technology that they knew Harry had brought with him, and given to his people.

They walked into the chamber where, somehow, they knew the Jedi Order took council meetings. It was large and rounded, with windows showing the beauty of the grounds. There were ten Jedi here, including Snape, Lovegood (to the man's great happiness and pride) the two youngest Weasley's, Hermione Granger, Alastair Moody, Aberforth Dumbledore – and there – there he was. Harry Potter.

"New business?" Snape asked, as the two entered. "I wasn't informed anyone wanted to see the Council today…"

"You wouldn't have been," the man smiled, under his hood. "Our business is with Potter alone."

His companion smacked him in the arm.

"Don't make it sound so sinister," she chided him. Then, she threw back her hood, and Harry Potter – older, taller, and probably infinitely wiser than he had been when they had last seen him, gave a gasp of recognition.

"Kara!" he yelled, standing up and grasping her arm. Kara Vincennes, her long golden hair shining from the sunlight from the windows. Then, the male threw back his hood, and Harry smiled.

"Castor!" he said. "I was wondering if you'd forgotten me!"

"They keep us busy," Castorabusallio Voraainsar said, unsmiling, his darkened, auburn hair cropped short, his face shaven. "I wish we were here for pleasure, Harry."

Harry looked from Castor to Kara, and she sighed, and held out her hand. A small communication device was in her palm. And from it, a small, blue hologram of a tall, grim man appeared. It was a recording, but Mace Windu said only one word, only one.

The most important one.

_'Assemble.'_

Kara looked at Harry, who had gone a sickly shade of green.

"A…" he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Master Obi Wan Kenobi has been kidnapped," Castor said. "And there is a deepening crisis that threatens to throw the entire galaxy into civil war. Every Jedi is needed now to go to Geonosis."

"My Order…" Harry said, before clearing his throat. "My Order isn't ready. There are too few truly well trained Jedi."

"There's you," Kara said. "And Ron. And Hermione."

"What does 'assemble' mean, in this context?" Hermione asked, standing and going over to the two Jedi Knights from another galaxy.

"In this context..." Castor began, but Harry cut him off with one word, grimly uttered.

"War," he said. Hermione raised an eyebrow, and he elaborated. "The Jedi are going to war."

Hermione's eyes widened, and she went a similar shade of green to Harry.

"The Jedi need everyone they can get," Kara said.

"I…" Harry said. "I…"

Severus Snape, Jedi MAster and Albus Dumbledore's last apprentice, stood, walked over to Harry, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Master Potter," he said, his voice far less smarmy than anyone remembered, and far softer. "Your loyalty is to the universe you were raised in. And to your friends. I will guard the Jedi here, with my life if need be."

Harry turned to look at Snape.

"And my children?" he asked.

Castor and Kara looked at each other, but they weren't surprised. They knew that this Jedi Order had no rules about relationships, no rules about children. To be honest, they preferred it that way.

"I'll look after the kids, Harry," Ginny said, from her seat. "You need to go."

"What good will only three of us do?" Ron asked, standing to take his place with the others.

"It's a matter of standing," Kara said. "The Council only recognises you two, Harry, Ginny and Luna as Jedi."

"Perhaps I should come too," Luna said at that point.

"No!" Harry snapped quickly. "I need you to stay here with Ginny. Keep the Order safe. If we need you, we will come."

Hermione nodded as well, and Ron smiled.

"The old team," he said. Harry smiled as well.

"Geonosis then?" he said, and the five Jedi turned and walked out of the building.

--

**Geonosis.**

The portal opened quickly and quietly, and the five jumped out. As expected, Coleman Trebor, Luminara Unduli and Ki-Adi Mundi were waiting for them.

"We move in soon," Mundi said. "Come on."

Ron and Hermione were worried. This was a war – against droids with blasters, of all things! And yet, at the same time, they could feel the Force more keenly here. Harry breathed in. It felt to him like breathing oxygen rich air after a lifetime in the mountains. To Hermione and Ron it felt like the difference between tap water and mineral water.

To Castor and Kara, it felt no different, but then, it had never been too much of a problem for them.

"We wait for the signal," Castor said, as they walked out onto the arena balcony where they were stationed.

"Which is?" Ron asked.

"Mace," Kara smiled.

Sure enough, a moment later, a purple lightsabre ignited in the top box. Harry smiled, unclipped his sabre, and then, as if by… well, by magic, two hundred odd Jedi ignited their sabre's in their own fighting stances at the same time across the arena. Immediately, Hermione and Ron got their first glimpse of alien life – the insect like Geonosians. They kept it together though, as hundreds of Battle Droids entered the arena.

"Ready?" Harry called to his friends, green blade shining. Ron's blue blade and Hermione's green blade raised, and they smiled. Castor and Kara – blue and yellow – were already engaged in combat.

Then, the wizard-Jedi's jumped into the fray…


	2. Geonosis 1

Harry spun his lightabre from left to right, then alternated the pattern, seeking the best possible route to success. All around him, Jedi Knights cut down dozens, then hundreds of battle droids. Nearby, Harry could see Castor and Kara, working as a team back to back, and there was Hermione, using her green blade in a devastating Ataro combo, cutting down droids like barley at harvest time. Ron, meanwhile, unleashed a very dangerous Djem So combination.

Harry blocked another bolt, and reversed his grip, impaling the droid that had shot it. He took stock of the situation in the moments breather he had. He could already see dead Jedi. Chankar Kim, there, and wasn't that Nat Sem…?

He felt a momentary surge of anger, but suppressed it, and kept blocking, knowing that something had to give…

--

Castor Voraainsar was, had he but known it, in his element, as dictated by his very name.

On the planet Dactar, where Castor had been born, Jedi were treated with reverence as the ultimate warriors, honourable and deadly. When a Jedi was born, they were automatically given a warrior name, rather than just their family's. When Rondackavoratre Voraainsar had discovered his son had the potential to be a Jedi, he had the boy tested. When the tests were confirmed, he had named him Castorabusallio – Castor meaning 'war', and 'Busallio' meaning 'Lord.' He had blessed his son, and prayed for weeks that the boy would bring honour to the family.

Had he seen his son, he would have been proud. No movement wasted, every flick of his wrist, every turn of the sabre, every move bringing death to another enemy. Castor, too, saw the dead Jedi and felt anger for it, but he directed his anger, like a student of Vaapad should, bringing his blue blade in a swinging arc that decapitated three droids straight.

Behind him, Kara moved like a goddess, her simple, fluid motions never letting a single bolt through. Her yellow lightsabre moved so fast that she seemed encased in light. She seemed, Castor reflected, a lot like one of the Gods of Dactar, Jarannakovan, Goddess of Light.

He smiled at her, and she grinned back, and then they were all business again.

--

Hermione and Ron were, to be fair, pretty unnerved by all these droids. They had never, ever seen robots before, and to see a whole army of them, shooting away, was almost terrifying.

Almost.

Hermione prided herself on her calm, cool demeanour, as a Jedi. She could handle anything. And since no other Jedi was unnerved, she wouldn't be either.

Ron, on the other hand, was treating these creatures exactly like he treated anything else he was afraid of; sarcastic comments, and quick destruction.

"People paid money to build you!" he told a droid he had just destroyed, before spinning around and decapitating another. "Try harder!"

"Ronald!" Hermione snapped. "Be careful!"

She was mindful of the fact that more Jedi were falling. They were down by half now, just over a hundred left standing, and more falling every second. She sensed a general retreat coming along, as the Jedi bunched together towards the arena centre.

There would be no respite there.

--

Jango Fett died, and Mace Windu spun around, blocking more laser bolts. Why could he sense… Vaapad in action? A darkness on the field… and then, as his power allowed, he looked for the shatter-point.

There. Voraainsar. Using Vaapad almost as well ad Mace himself – well, maybe not that good, but still – good.

Mace sensed a shatter-point coming, and focused harder, letting the Force and his own body take care of the blocking of laser bolts. Castor's shatter-point…

Vincennes.

Kara.

Mace snapped out of his trance, and started a general movement towards the two younger Jedi. If Vincennes fell, it would be a push – and not even Windu could sense where that would lead…

--

_Fate is not kind._

In one of the few lessons he had taught Harry, Jacen Araphis had said that. Harry remembered it now, as he watched more Jedi fall, almost as if in slow motion. He kept spinning his sabre, as the mad rush towards the centre, away from the increasing numbers of droids, began. His blade became a whirl of motion, but even that wouldn't stave off bolts forever.

_Fate is not kind._

Why did he keep remembering that?

_Fate is not kind._

He turned his eyes to Hermione and Ron, who blocked bolts well, as befitted the Jedi Order, wherever they were.

_Fate is not kind._

He turned his eyes now to Castor and Kara. And he sensed what was about to happen. Had he known it, he sensed a shatter-point.

Mace Windu sensed it to, and spun his blade, moving to help stop it…

Too late.

A super battle droid came up behind Castor, aiming its gun. Kara moved him out of the way, and the bolts hit nothing but thin air – but she left herself exposed…

And took a bolt to the chest. Castor jumped up, and cut down droid after droid, reaching her side…

Just as the shooting stopped.

"Master Windu!" came a familiar, imposing, regal voice. Harry looked up, to see none other than Count Dooku standing there.

"You have fought gallantly," Dooku continued, condescendingly. "Worthy of recognition in the Jedi Archives. Now, it is over."

"We will _not_ become hostages to be used as barter, Dooku!" Windu retorted, and Harry smiled. Yes, that was Mace Windu. Speaking for all of them, and doing it in style. Harry edged towards Castor, who was still kneeling near Kara's still form… still, and steadily paling. Too late.

"Then I'm sorry, old friend," Dooku said, and the tone Harry heard didn't sound sorry in the slightest. "You will have to be destroyed…"

Hundreds of droids aimed blaster rifles at the Jedi. Castor shot to his feet, eyes blazing, lightsabre poised…

"_Look_!"

That cry shattered their reverie. Harry looked upwards, in complete contradiction of every instinct he should have had after seven years of being in a British Boarding school, and saw what he would later term the ugliest yet the most beautiful sight he would ever see.

Most beautiful, because an entire army of white armoured soldiers, led by the most brilliant being in the galaxy, the unstoppable, irrepressible Yoda, were here to save the Jedi.

And ugliest, because their very existence shattered the peace that thousands of Jedi had died defending for countless millennia.

And they were already too late for some.

--

Mace Windu walked over to Castor, as the shooting began.

"Come on, Voraainsar," he said, grabbing the young mans arm.

"I can't leave her," Castor said, and he didn't even look up from the still form of Kara Vincennes. He held her lightsabre in his hand. "I just _can't_."

At that moment, Mace sensed a shift, and pulled Castor away. A moment later, the ground where Kara had been was gone, vaporised by droid weaponry. Scattered bolts continued to fly their way, and Mace blocked them.

"_Move,_ Voraainsar!" he ordered, taking a moment to sense the shatter-point about the boy. It was there, but weakened. The decision not yet made. He had to be sympathetic, if he could. "We can mourn later, now move!"

Castor nodded, staring at the total lack of bodily evidence that his love had ever been. She had died to save him… and he could never even say goodbye.

He ran towards the nearest ship, getting on with Harry, Ron and Hermione. Mace got on a different ship, and soon, they were heading for the front.

"Castor," Harry said, edging to his friend. "I am so sorry."

"She's gone," Castor said. "She's really… _gone_."

"At least she died doing something worthwhile," Hermione consoled him. "She saved your life."

Castor looked up, and the others were shocked at the odd light they saw there. When he spoke again, his voice was harder, colder, and clipped, the educated Coruscanti accent accentuated.

"And those rusted scraps of metal will regret that she did," he promised. He ignited his sabre, and Kara's as well, and jumped headlong out of the gunship…


	3. Geonosis 2

Harry watched as Castor jumped out of the gunship, and landed on a Trade Federation starship.

"He's mad!" Ron said. "Bloody _mad_!"

"He's going to get himself killed," Hermione whispered .

Harry turned away, as the gunship kept going.

--

Castor was running on pure adrenaline. He rammed the two lightsabre's – his and Kara's – into the hull of the Trade Federation battleship, and entered the ships outer superstructure. Then he jumped inside, and ended up in an outer corridor.

As he expected, the droids came for him, and there was the sound of shutting blast doors at the hull breach. Pah – blast doors don't keep Jedi out.

He cut down every droid that came anywhere near him, then spun around and sliced through a wire. The blast door opened, and he ran through. A moment later, some bright spark must have hit the override, because the door closed again; with Castor inside.

He ran forward.

--

Harry jumped off of the gunship, only to have Mace Windu coming up to him.

"Where's Voraainsar?" he asked, looking at the three young Jedi Wizards.

"He infiltrated a Trade Federation ship," Harry reported. "It's back there…"

Mace looked over Harry's shoulder, and sighed.

"Not for long, it isn't," he said. Harry spun, and saw the ship that Castor had infiltrated lifting off. He groaned.

"Knowing Castor," Ron put in, "that ship'll be having some difficulty."

Harry turned back to Mace, who introduced a Clone Commander.

"This is CC 22445," he said. "He'll be your Clone Commander and second in command – General Potter."

Harry smiled, and turned to the clone.

"Commander," he nodded in greeting. "What's the situation?"

"We have an enemy battalion coming at us, sir," the clone replied. "Multiple hostile units."

Harry nodded as Mace introduced Ron and Hermione to their own commanders. Then he looked to the horizon.

"C'mon," he said, and they ran towards the battle.

--

Castor cut down more and more droids. He had already inadvertently blocked his way with destroyed droids, and was in no mood to use the Force to shift them – he was saving that for the bridge.

When he got to the door to the bridge, he focused all of his Force energy into breaking the door down. It crumpled under his mental weight, and he threw it aside.

To find himself staring at space.

"Oh drok," he said. Then he went to the ships comm. Systems and started trying to contact the Republic ships. All of the bridge crew were dead.

"This is Castor Voraainsar, Jedi Knight," he said, setting the message to wide band frequency. "I have captured a Trade Federation troop ship and need urgent reinforcements to board, at once!"

He checked the course the ship had laid in. It was docking with the outer section of the troop ship, even as he spoke.

"This ship," he added, "is in sector six alpha echo. Need urgent reinforcement…"

He spun and blocked a hail of blaster bolts, as several dozen battle droids attacked him. He spun his sabre, and leapt amongst them, smashing them aside.

"Hurry up, you guys," he muttered.

--

The clones of the 217th Legion had been told to expect their new commander, but CT 35778 – known a Double Seven for his number – wasn't particularly hopeful.

"Keep it tight!" he shouted to his squad mates. "Watch your flanks, these clankers are tricky!"

"We need support!" one of his fellows called. Then, suddenly, a voice sounded through the comm. system.

"This is General Potter," it said, calm and collected and controlled. "Am incoming. Hold firm."

A few moments later, a young Jedi with black hair that blew in the wind leapt over the embattled clones, swinging his lightsabre back and forth, blocking dozens of laser bolts.

"Follow the General!" Double Seven found himself yelling, standing up and firing his blaster. "Give him covering fire! C'mon!!"

And with that bellow, the clones charged after their new General.

--

Castor finished off the fourth group of droids that had come after him, and checked both corridors.

Nothing more seemed to be coming. He had set his message to repeat, and no one had come.

"Drokking hell!" he yelled, just as more droids came down the next corridor…

"Not to worry sir," a different voice came. "We'll handle this."

And with that, a dozen white armoured troopers ran down the corridor, unleashing a hail of blaster fire and smashing the droids apart.

"Who the hell are you guys?" Castor asked. One of the troops turned.

"We're the 122nd Legion, sir," he said. "I'm Sergeant CT 54662. Good to meet you."

He held out a hand, and Castor gripped it. This was beyond surreal…

"We're being assigned to your command, sir," the trooper added.

"My… command?" Castor asked.

"Yes sir," the trooper said. "For the war."

Castor nodded, understanding.

He thought.

--

Harry finished off another battle droid, as his troops advanced upon the spire.

"We've gotta keep moving!" his commander said. "Come on men!"

The troops were wavering, just a tiny bit. Just enough to worry the commander.

"We can do this!" Harry shouted. "Come on!"

He raised his sabre in triumph, and cut down more droids. Inspired by his heroic charge, the clones followed him, and they quickly broke into the spire.

Inside were a couple of droid commanders, but no real evidence of leadership. Dooku, Harry reasoned with a mental sigh, must have run.

He cut down a droid, and watched as his men shot the rest to bits.

"Well," he said, as they cleared the room. "I think we just won."

--

Hermione and Ron were waiting for him by the rendezvous point. Ron had a blaster bun on his tunic and Hermione was sporting a black eye.

"We've just heard," Hermione smiled as Harry came up. "Castor captured that ship. He's safe."

Harry smiled. Too many good people, Jedi and Clone, had died today. Some good news was welcome.

"We're meeting up with him on Coruscant," Ron said, stumbling over the word. "Is that another planet?"

"It's the home of the Jedi Order, Ron," Hermione scolded. "Honestly, don't you watch the holocrons…?"

Harry was happy his friends were here… but he couldn't help but think that somehow, this war was going to be the deciding moment of their lives.

Something was coming.

He wished he knew _what_.

--


	4. Coruscant Insurrection

Castor stared out at the setting sun on Coruscant.

He was alone, on a secluded balcony of his own apartment. For three weeks now, he had been waiting. Waiting for something to come up, for Master Yoda to give him a mission. Harry had argued that he deserved compassionate leave, but in truth, although he was grateful for his friends gesture, Castor wanted nothing more than to get out there and destroy the Seperatists, once and for all.

A slight tremor hit him. Something, a stirring in the Force. He couldn't identify it at first, but then… he could.

Dooku was here.

--

Harry, Ron and Hermione were out, enjoying the sights. Harry often gave his friends tours of the various areas of the High City, but today, he was in the underlevels with them, exposing them to Coruscants more… interesting, inhabitants.

"It's kinda dark down 'ere," Ron observed.

"Of course it is, Ronald," Hermione replied, snappishly. "This place is near the bottom – the sunlight gets caught up top."

"The people who live 'round here wouldn't want much light, anyway," Harry smirked. "There's all sorts of… shady dealings."

He smiled as they turned a corner…

And found themselves facing a Super Battle Droid. It was bigger than the usual variety, and also heavier armed. It turned to face them. In a flash, the three Jedi had their lightsabres out and blocking dozens of shots. Harry leapt in to cut the droid in half, only for his lightsabre to bounce off of the things armour.

"What the bloody hell?" Ron yelled. "You told us lightsabres could cut through anything!"

"They can!" Harry yelled. "At least they're supposed to…"

"Cortosis!" Hermione said, dodging the bolts and bringing her sabre down right through the droids front, impaling it. "Its breastplate armour is made of Cortosis!"

"How do you know that?!" Ron said, exasperated – Hermione always seemed to know everything, give or take.

"Oh, for goodness sake Ron," Hermione sighed, holding up the shattered breastplate. "If we're staying in the Jedi Temple, you might read occasionally?"

Harry looked around, and listened. There were more sounds of battle up ahead.

"C'mon!" he called to his friends.

--

Dooku marched into the temple; ah, it felt good to be home. This place was the sight of many, many fond childhood memories for him. He shook himself out of his reverie quickly.

"Trenox," he called into his communicator. "Trenox, come in."

"Trenox here," his most destructive Dark Acolyte replied. "What do you wish, my liege?"

"I want you to cause a little havoc," Dooku replied. "Nothing major, just run around a bit, cause some destruction. This little invasion of ours is designed to instil panic – so instil it."

"As you command," Trenox replied, and Dooku could almost hear the dark pleasure in his voice. He shuddered. The people one must deal with sometimes…

--

Harry ran forward and cut down another battle droid. Those Cortosis droids were more and more numerous, appearing from nowhere to shoot down clones and confound Jedi. He had already seen Forndor Rachan fall to them. Hermione had perfected a method of killing them with her sabre, while Ron contented himself with shattering the regular droids.

Barriss Offee, a newer apprentice Harry didn't know very well, although she had been at Geonosis, fell back as the droids advanced, shooting. Harry gathered the Force unto himself, and ran, before leaping high into the air. Just as he landed, he unleashed a Force-shockwave, which knowcked the droids to the ground, shattered.

Barriss nodded her thanks.

--

Castor ran down the steps, feeling the anguish as multiple Jedi started gathering. Then he saw the droids. The reaction was instinctual, his blue blade cutting a swathe through them, spinning and twirling like a beam of sky...

He finished the last of this group and headed for the residences, where he could sense Dooku's presence.

--

Trenox ran down the pathway, cutting down Clone and Jedi alike. His Master wanted carnage and confusion, he would deliver.

Just at that point, he ran into three more Jedi. A girl, tow boys. Practically children, but so solemn; so serious. At that age, they should be having fun.

Bah, Trenox thought. I'm not here for political reasons.

Vaguely, he thought of his own life – born on a world so desolate the Jedi would never have found him… but Dooku did, and gave him what he needed – guidance, support... and outlet for his rage.

He snapped his sabre up in salute.

"Come to die?" he asked.

"No today," one of the men said, black hair shoulder length. He raised his own, emerald green sabre, and smiled. "How about you?"

"I came her to kill," Trenox replied, before jumping forward. He spun and dodged and parried, easily blocking the strikes of the young Jedi. A quick riposte and thrust had Ron falling to the ground, and Hermione hgad to duck to keep her head, part of her hair sheared away. Harry stayed on course, blocking the strikes, but then a Force push of immense power and skill came from Trenox, and he knocked Harry down.

When Harry got up, Trenox had gone.

--

Castor flexed his robotic arm in impatience. Dooku was somewhere up ahead. There were barely any Jedi in the Temple now, they were all off fighting, but Castor knew that Dooku was here.

"You can't hide forever," he said. "I know you are here."

And count Dooku stepped out, blade ignited.

"And you would be…?" he asked.

"The boy you fought on another world, in another universe," Castor replied, cryptically. Flashes came to his mind of that day, the day that Dooku had shown his true colours. The fight. The pain of Force lightening ripping through him, oh Force the pain…

"Ah," the Count smiled. "Voraainsar."

"Dooku," Castor smiled, raising his blue blade.

"I see you've changed your sword," Dooku said.

"A necessary loss," Castor replied. "And now, you're about to become a necessary loss."

"Not today," Dooku smiled, and he leapt forward, unleashing a Makashi assault that Castor found hard, but not impossible, to counter. When Dooku let up, for a single moment, Castor unleashed a furious Ataro/Vaapad counter assault, that let loose strike after strike in perfect harmony and precision.

And Dooku, consummate fencer, happily blocked them all. Parry, parry, thrust, riposte…

Castor spun around, and cut Dooku along his arm. The Count staggered forwards, and unleashed a Force Lightening bolt out of his hand to distract the young Jedi. Castor blocked it, but Dooku was already running. As Castor watched, his cut down another Jedi.

"Coward!" Castor called, running after him, but a moment later, the older man was gone…

Castor ran after him, not noticing Trenox slip into the archives.

--

Harry limped with Hermione and Ron into the Temple infirmary. Ten Jedi had been killed today, and dozens injured. Castor reported that he had wounded Dooku, but General Kenobi had been equally wounded.

"Dooku's a coward," Castor said. "He took a scratch and ran like a nerf."

"He is eighty," Harry reasoned. "I imagine the fight was taking a toll on him."

"Well, he's still a coward," Ron said, agreeing with Castor on this one. "I'd have kept fighting if I believed in a cause as much as Dooku is supposed to…"

"Are you alright, Castor?" Hermione asked him, concern evident on her face. Her hair, having been halved by Trenox's blade, was now cut short.

"Fine," Castor replied, leaning back. "Just… I dunno. I could have ended this war. Today. I failed."

"No, you didn't," Harry said, firmly.

"There's enough loonies in the CIS, from what I've 'eard, to keep 'em goin' for decades," Ron added, oblivious to the dirty looks he got. "Jus' saying."

Just then, Yoda hobbled into the room, pensieve.

"Jedi Voraainsar, Jedi Potter, Jedi, Weasley, Jedi Granger," he said. "A mission for you, I have."

"Yes, Master?" Castor said.

"To Rhen Var, you must go," the diminutive Jedi said. "There, find you will a secret base. Retrieve you must a holocron of enemy ship movement, then destroy the base, you will, and wait in the main citadel for reinforcement."

Castor stood to his feet and bowed.

"I will not fail you, Master," he said, and he meant every word.

Failure was not on Castor Voraainsar's agenda.


	5. Rhen Var

A gunship with the gunmetal markings of the 122nd Legion – Castors legion – landed, and disgorged a dozen troopers and two Jedi. A second ship, marked with the emerald green of the 217th Legion, Harry's men, landed, and disgorged a dozen more troopers and two more Jedi.

"I never liked Rhen Var," Castor said, as the gunships flew away.

"You've been 'ere before?" Ron asked.

"Once, with…" Castor said, then petered out. "Anyway, we were here on a survey mission. It's cold, it's boring, and there's little here but labyrinthine ruins."

"One of which is hiding a secret Seperatist base," Hermione pointed out.

"Of course," Castor smiled. "But, that doesn't mean I have to like being here. Commander Tank!"

His Clone Commander saluted.

"Sir?" he asked.

"Set up a defensive position here – we're coming back," Castor ordered.

"As you command, sir!" Tank said.

"Commander Storm," Harry said to his commander. "I want your men to scout ahead."

"Aye sir," Storm nodded, and quickly, his unit disappeared.

"Well," Castor said. "I guess we're on."

--

Castor had his lightsabre out, but not active. He picked his way through the rubble of Rhen Var as carefully as he could, using the Force to keep himself quiet. The Jedi had split up, Harry and Hermione going one way, Ron and Castor another.

"So," Ron said from behind him. "How've you been doing?"

It was an attempt to get him to open up. Small talk. Transparent, as well, but Castor recognised the general good intent behind it. But Castor was in no mood for small talk. And he was in no mood for opening up.

"Fine," he said, shortly.

"You been holding out alright?"

"Fine."

"You sure…?"

"You want the truth?!" Castor snapped, turning to face Ron, quiet but angry. "I feel as though my heart was ripped out of my body, sliced into ten thousand pieces, incinerated, and someone poured the ashes back in there!" Ron said nothing, but looked shocked.

"Sorry," he said. "You really loved 'er, didn't you?"

"Yes," Castor said. "I did. And she died. End of."

"No it isn't," Ron said, sadly. "Look, mate, you've gotta talk about it with some…"

A blaster bolt caught him in the back. Too busy talking heart to heart to notice Battle Droids. Castor blocked the hail that came and stood over Ron – a quick check indicated that he was merely injured, not fatally.

"Harry – we need help!" he called into his comn link. "Multiple hostile targets!"

--

Clone Commander Tank received this message. And being Tank, he knew just how to deal with it.

"Dusty and Sharp, with me," he said. "The rest of you,stay here. Dead Shot, keep it steady!"

"Aye sir," the Clone Captain called Dead Shot replied, nodding. Tank smiled under his helmet, and ran ahead, for the citadel, the two clone troopers he had indicated following close behind.

Dusty was a clone with bad luck – he had been injured at Geonosis. He had earned his name through the sheer bad luck of having gotten his armour filthy in the dirt of Geonosis. Sharp was the proud owner of a Vibroblade he had scavenged from a dead Geonosian, and despite the fact it didn't need it, he kept it clean and – you guessed it – _sharp_.

Tank, on the other hand, was merely well known for blowing them up repeatedly. He as also known for complete loyalty to his commanding officer, and bravery.

And never letting his C.O down.

--

Harry got the message too, but, as Hermione pointed out, the mission had to come first. Harry understood that, for her, it must have been very hard to say that – Ron was out there, after all. Harry silently thanked the Force that Ginny was back home with James and Albus. His children. Perhaps the best reason for this war to be fought – their safety.

He gritted his teeth, and rounded a corner.

"There," he whispered.

A giant power generator, guarded by three Cortosis droids, and nearby – the computer core, with a holocron in the middle.

"Almost as if they _want_ us to find it," Hermione muttered.

"Just complacency," Harry said. "They don't think anyone knows this place exists."

He jumped down, and advanced towards the generator. The Cortosis droids noticed him immediately, but he happily blocked the bolts, and cut them all down, focusing as he knew he should on the weak point between the armour plates. Hermion jumped down, took out a couple of science droids, and grabbed the holocron.

"I'll set the charges," Harry said. He quickly did so, and then grabbed Hermione's arm, as the charges started beeping…

--

Ron was leaning against a cave wall, freezing and bleeding out. Castor knew it was only a matter of time, now. _Death catches up with everyone in the end,_ he thought.

Then, a set of footsteps came towards him. Bracing himself, Castor stood…

And found himself facing Tank, and two of his men.

"Hello, sir," Tank said. "I thought you were in trouble."

A blaster bolt exploded above their heads, and Castor spun, to see Hermione and Harry running at them, full pelt, battle droids chasing them.

"We are!" Castor yelled, spinning his sabre and blocking dozens of bolts. The two clones with Tank picked Ron up, while Tank started shooting at his enemies. Castor released all hope of ever escaping, and stayed right where he was, as the bolts came closer, and closer…

"C'mon!" Harry yelled, as the rest of the team ran back, heading for the rendezvous. Castor smiled, and stayed right where he was. Soon, he would meet Kara in whatever came after…

"Castor!" Harry yelled. Castor ignored him and kept spinning his blade. "_Castor_!"

"Go!" Castor yelled. "Tank! _Mission_!"

"Yes sir!" Tank yelled back, and he grabbed Harry, forcing him along the passageway.

"Not like _this_!" Harry yelled.

Castor said nothing, and kept spinning the blade, but in his mind, he thought…

_Yes. Like this._

--

Harry got onto the gunship, a haunted look in his eye. Hermione helped Ron on as well, and the clones seemed genuinely relieved to be leaving.

"If we never come back here, it'll be too soon," Storm said.

"I hate to agree with you, but I _agree_ with you," Ron said from his stretcher. "Harry, mate…"

Harry said nothing.

"He wanted to," Hermione said. "Since Geonosis. You know he wanted to die."

"Not like that," Harry said. "Not like _that_…"

--

Castor spat in his captors face, but missed, catching a droid.

"No wonder you were caught," Dooku sighed. "You seem so intent on causing trouble for everyone…"

Castor tried to jump at him, but he felt a Force wall halting him. He snarled.

"You want me to kill you," Dooku said conversationally. "You wish to be killed, to end your grief over your... friend. Well, I'm _very_ sorry to say, young Voraainsar – death is a luxury, and you are very far from it…"

"Where are you taking me?" he asked Dooku.

The Count turned to regard him, and smiled.

"Home," he said.

Castor looked into his captors eyes, and felt fear. And anger. And hatred.

And soon, he knew, Dooku would initiate the suffering.

This was it then. He was damned.

This was the Dark Side.

--

Harry walked slowly up the steps of the Jedi Temple, sadness etched in his features. His best friend of old, someone he had known for years, and now he was gone. Kara, and Castor, dead.

He was distracted from his dark thoughts be a delighted squeal and someone hugging him and kissing him…

"What?!" he yelled. "I… Ginny!"

It _was_ her! And Luna, Neville and… Draco Malfoy? What the hell were they all doing here?!

"We thought," Luna said, in answer to his unspoken question, "that we might be of some use."

"There's a war on, after all," Malfoy added. "Let it never be said the Jedi of Hogwarts didn't do their part."

Malfoy had become, eventually, a Jedi Knight (under the tutelage of the now-Master Luna Lovegood, who was the only expert anyone in Hogwarts had on the Unifying Force, where most Jedi of Hogwarts followed Harry in their interest in the Living Force), and was as brave and noble a man as any other, albeit still very arrogant.

"You need all the help you can get," Neville continued.

"But… I told you to stay with the children," Harry said quietly to Ginny.

"Mum and Dad are looking after them," Ginny smiled, sadly. "You need us."

"I don't want you to die!" Harry yelled. "Kara died at Geonosis. And now, Castor's dead…"

"Oh, _no_," Luna said, "he's not dead."

Harry looked at Luna – if looks could kill, she would have been incinerated.

"We left him behind on Rhen Var," Hermione said, trying to break the tension. "He can't have survived."

"He _did_," Luna insisted, urgently. "He's alive – but he's very angry."

Then it clicked in Harry's mind, what Luna was going on about.

She was Castors former apprentice.

She could sense his life.

"Do you know where he is?" he asked her tentatively.

She fixed him with a grey stare.

"He's in the darkness," she said. "And the fury. He's let himself go."

"Where?" Hermione asked. "Where's his body?"

"Oh that," Luna said. "On a ship, I think. I think it's going to his home."

Harry clenched his fists.

Dactar.

"We have to rescue him," he said simply.


	6. Dactar 1

Dactar was, to all intents and purposes, nothing more than a large hunk of rock.

Dooku had led his droid armies here, and blasted the entire planet to slag, and left nothing but ruins and mud; and then he had made the people of this planet build a mansion for him to inhabit.

It had been verdant, Castor knew. He remembered his home, vaguely, and he knew full well that it was ruined by the acts of Dooku. He also knew full well that the whole thing was merely to piss him off.

It was working.

He smashed his robotic arm into the walls, pounding them to rubble, but they were thicker than his hand had the stamina for. He sighed, and sat back in his cell.

And that was when Asajj Ventress came in.

She was beautiful, in her own way. Her lack of hair did nothing to detract from her obviously slender and shapely form.

Castor looked at her, and considered the many varying ways he could dismember her. She was smiling, as if she knew that was what he was thinking.

"You want to kill me," she said, finally, the same smile gracing her lips.

"You're my enemy," he replied, shortly. "It's my job."

"You're a Jedi," she countered. "You're supposed to be compassionate."

"Compassionate?" Castor snapped. "This war has claimed the only thing in creation I loved. Compassion is for those who can afford it, and stomach it."

She laughed, and he hated her.

And she turned to leave, and dropped a small, cylindrical object by the door. Castor looked at it, and almost gave a start. He didn't notice Asajj leave. It was his lightsabre, right there, right as it had looked when Dooku had taken it from him. He summoned it to him, and ignited it in a heartbeat, slicing through the door and racing to find Dooku and some droids and kill them, painfully. Ventress was, unfortunately, nowhere to be seen. No matter - he didn't care about her. He wanted _Dooku's _head.

It was only after he had started that he noticed the blade was red.

He didn't care.

--

Four robed figures moved swiftly and silently through the ruins of Dactar, seeking the one man they knew could incite the people of this world to claim back their dignity.

Rondackavoratre Voraainsar, Castor's father, was, in his time, a God among warriors. Almost literally. Rumour had it that he had retired from war only because, in his own words, 'I have killed too much, and died too little.' Thus, a man with honour as well. Harry smiled as he knocked on the door leading to his little hut.

"What is it?" a gruff voice called.

"You're wanted!" Harry called. "C'mon out Rondack!"

The door opened, and a gruff looking man with beard and shabby robe looked out upon the Jedi. His eyes widened at their robes, so familiar to any Dactarian.

"My word," he said, his voice a hushed whisper. "Jedi Knights, here."

"We're here to help you get your world back," Hermione said from behind Harry.

"If you don't mind, that is," Ron added, with a grin.

"And don't forget Castor," Luna added.

At the word 'Castor,' Rondack pushed past the others, and brought himself face to face with Luna, narrowing his eyes at her.

"What about my son?" he said, his voice low and worried.

"Oh, they've captured him," Luna smiled. "They've got him at their base."

Rondack seemed at a loss for words for a long moment, staring at her as if she was a ghost, and then, with a cry of fury, he ran down the hill, past the four Jedi, screaming incoherently.

"What the…?" Ron said, worried.

And as he ran, Rondack cast off his outer robe – and to the wonder of the others, he had body armour on underneath. He drew a blaster and a vibroblade as he ran, and screamed out to the heavens.

"Time! My people! Rebel! Destroy the oppressor! Fight! Dactar! DACTAR!"

An answering yell came from the villages surrounding the hill.

"Crikey," Ron said. "I take it they're gonna fight, then."

"I think so," Harry said, with a grin. "C'mon!"

--

Castor found Dooku in an empty control room, lightsabre out, almost as if he was waiting. The older man was in a classic Makashi defensive posture.

"Where's your pet assassin got to?" Castor snarled.

"Somewhere," Dooku replied, vaguely. "It doesn't matter, does it? You're here for me."

"True," Castor smiled. "I'm here to kill you, if you want specifics. Painfull,y if I can manage it."

"You're here to die," Dooku said. "You know you have not the skill to finish me."

"I have enough skill to end your ,miserable traitor…" Castor began, but Dooku cut him off by going for him. He blocked a number of powerful blows, high, low and middle, and stepped back quickly to avoid more. Dooku did not press home his advantage yet.

"I'd like you to think about what you are feeling," Dooku said. "Anger at me. Sorrow for what you have lost."

"I'd prefer to think about what I'm going to feel with your corpse at my feet," Castor smiled, and then he jumped forward, launching a series of well balanced, perfectly even, shockingly quick assaults that Dooku found hard to counter.

"Think about the power you have," Dooku said as they duelled. "You are more skilled, more powerful now for all your anger and sorrow than you ever were as a Jedi Knight, free from love and hate."

"You talk too much," Castor snarled. He spun his blade around and hit out at Dooku.

"Look at the sword you're holding," Dooku asked him, dodging a strong stroke and riposting so that Castor had to step back.

"What about the sword I'm holding?" the young man snarled.

"Look at what colour it is," Dooku smiled.

Castor did so, and his eyes found the red, and it seemed to be the red that had been in front of his eyes for hours, days, maybe even weeks. His eyes focused on it.

"I…" he said.

"You have already fallen," Dooku smiled. "Now… why not go the whole way…?"

--

Harry walked calmly into the central courtyard of the Seperatist base, wand out (he always had it with him, in case of emergencies). Behind him, in the shadows, almost five thousand warriors of Dactar – and three Jedi – waited, shielded by a Disillusionment charm of epic proportions. He was first.

"Ahem," he said. "You're all a stinking mess of scrap metal, bolted together and given third rate guns!"

"You can tell he's a proper Jedi, can't you?" Ron said. "He's crap at insults."

"_You're_ crap at insults," Hermione said with a grin. Ron made a mock horrified expression, that Hermone obviously couldn't see.

"Wait," Luna said, shuching them. Harry was surrounded by battle droids, who raised their guns doubtfully. Hermione signalled to the troops, forgetting they couldn't see her, and then Harry smiled at her. He could sense them all.

"What is that?" a battle droid asked, indicating the wand.

"A magic wand," Harry smiled. "Does this."

He raised his wand, and suddenly, an army of Dactarian soldiers surrounded the battle droids.

"Uh oh," the droids said. And then, a moment later, they really _were_ scrap metal.

"I suggest we move," Rondack said. "Dooku will know something is wrong by now."

"I think he's a bit busy to be honest," Luna said, seriously. "There's something of a fight going on."

--


	7. Dactar 2

Luna spun her sabre in a traditional Soresu mode, blocking the bolts of the battle droids. She could sense her Masters turmoil, and knew that he was on the edge.

She hoped she could get to him in time; losing him would be – distressing.

Harry was using his wand to smash the droids to bits, various spells smashing the robotic bodies apart. Hermione and Ron worked back to back and blocked various blasts with their lightsabres, Hermione's green light flashing high, Ron's ducking low, the two working in harmony and causing wide devastation.

Rondack led his people from the front, blasting the battle droids to pieces with his rifle; it was surprisingly rapid-fire. His people fought equally fiercely, some even smashing droids to bits with their bare hands.

The screams of battle even reached up to the top floors…

--

"_Die you rusted scraps of metal!"_

Dooku looked up as the screams started. He recognised the voices of his droids, and they were definitely not Clone voices.

"Trouble?" Castor asked him, smiling softly.

"Nothing to stop me dealing with you," Dooku said. He raised his sabre in a classic poise of attack, to which Castor responded with another classic move. Then they leapt at each other again, their red blades creating a halo of light around the two which seemed to encase them.

"You cannot defeat me," Dooku promised Castor, blocking another strike. "No matter how skilled you pretend to be, you cannot win."

"Who's pretending, Dooku?" Castor countered, spinning into Djem So assault. "You pretend you fight this war for altruistic purposes and then enslave whole populations!"

Dooku easily blocked the assault. He stepped back, and held out his left hand, to try and stay the hand of the man before him; Castor slowed, and settled into a warily prepared stance.

"You have much power," Dooku told him. "This I admit – _but you lack focus!_If you had focus, you could destroy those who killed your beloved…"

"_Your droids,_" Castor snarled.

"Yes – but who prompted those droids?" Dooku said. "The Senate! The Jedi! The Republic!"

"You're stalling," Castor said, turning his head.

An explosion rocked the room. Dooku looked at Castor, Castor at Dooku.

"You have a choice, Jedi," Dooku said. "Be strong, and take your revenge, as a Darksider, or remain a puppet. Choose!"

Castor raised his sabre.

--

Asajj Ventress killed both the idiotic natives that dared charge her, and looked around at the courtyard.

Four Jedi, spinning their various lightsabres in concert to smash the robotic guards of the complex apart. It would be a simple matter to slaughter them, but… no, that wasn't why she was here. She was here, primarily, to escape.

"Asajj Ventress!" someone yelled at her, and she sighed. Alright, so escaping wouldn't be _that_ straightforward…

A Jedi Knight with red hair and a blue lightsabre ran at her, spinning his blade to block a couple of bolts and then raising it in salute. She ignited her own blades and saluted him in return.

"I've heard all about you," he smiled, beginning to pace around her. "Ex-Jedi turned assassin for the Seps."

"You have the advantage of me," she replied, matching his pacing. "I don't know you at all. Not," she added with a malicious smirk, "that it matters. One dead Jedi is much the same as another."

"Who said anything about me being dead?" the Jedi smiled, then launched into an assault which put Ventress off balance almost immediately. She had to work her twin blades furiously to block his assault.

But just because he had her off balance, didn't mean he was better.

It was a gradual process, the bettering; she parried more and more blows, got off more and more strikes. Eventually, he started stepping backwards, blocking her strikes more than launching his own…

And then he lost his hand. One moment it was there, the next – not. He fell backwards and looked at the stump in horror, not daring to believe it.

"You cow," he muttered as Ventress stood over him, and prepared to finish him.

"NO!" a yell rang out, coming from the female Jedi who – aimed a wooden stick at her?

The next thing Ventress knew, she was flying across the courtyard, losing consciousness, and wondering just what the Force had hit her...

--

"Ron!" Hermione sobbed, kneeling by her injured husband. The ginger Jedi grinned at her, and then winced as he tried to sit up, clutching at his arm which had been reduced from the wrist up. He smiled reassuringly at her.

"My fault," he said, his voice strained but light. "Shoulda been more careful, I suppose."

"Probably," Hermione laughed, tearfully, and then she started sobbing again. "Oh God, Ron…"

"I'll be fine," Ron smiled at her, and he patted her hand with his remaining one. "They can replace it. You have to help Harry."

Hermione nodded, stood up, motioned two Dactarian medics over, then looked for Harry – who was nowhere to be seen.

--

Harry was running through the corridors of the building, searching desperately for his friend; but there was no sign of Castor or Dooku anywhere. Where could they be?

Noises of battle reached his ears - Lightsabre battle. He renewed his run and headed for the noise, spinning his sabre into a vortex of destruction, ready to cut Dooku in half...

And he stopped, the sabre slowing, then stopping.

Dooku was stood over Castor, who lay on the floor, a smoking hole in his chest, eyes wide and glazed. dooku's blade was gleaming and Castors was off. Dooku was smiling. He looked at Hary, nodded, saluted, and then ran.

Harry blinked, and then ran after his foe, lightsabr emoving again, deterined to catch him, exact some sort of vengeance...

But then his mind returned to him, and he realised; his duty was to Castor, whom he had come to save. He stopped, letting Dooku get away, and then rushing to find his friend; but Castor was gone, robes and all. Harry blinked, and dropped to his knees, not moving, even as the explosions continued to rock the building.

He had died.

Become one with the Force.

Of the old team, the three of them, himself, Castor and Kara, he was the only survivor.

--

Luna felt it too, the sudden los of contact with her former Master, and the shock of it snapped at her like a bullet. She stopped moving for a good minute, and then she went back to the battle.

The long view demanded that she continue the fight.

--

It was over an hour later that the discarded weapon of Castorabusallio Voraainsar was delivered to his father, who swore to enshrine it in honour. Harry said nothing to the old man, and let the talk of battle wash over him, the talk of Luna being assigned command of the 122nd, the talk of his own unit being sent to Cardan-Tomar, the talk of all the things he didn't really care about coming to pass.

Castor was dead.

--

And in a place of great evil, the darkest depths of Korriban, a ceremony happened, the ceremony of the birth of a new Sith Lord, and the death of the Rule of Two once more, for the second time since the ordaining of Darth Enigma.

His name was Darth Mortis, Death incarnate, whose black robe and black heart were equal in measure; he had long auburn hair and a beard, and his eyes were blue.

In that moment, the galaxy took a turn to the dark side.


	8. Coruscant 1

**Two years, eleven months and seven days since the battle of Geonosis.**

**Mygeeto.**

**--**

Neville always treated each new planet like an experience to be relished, to be excited over. He tried not to become hardened to the beauty of the universe.

It wasn't easy in Mygeeto's case. It was a wreck of a planet, burned and ashen, with ruins, rubble and wreckage, and not much else. Certainly nothing worth getting overly excited over. Still he tried; after all, grey rubble had its own... unique, charms.

_Ah, sod it,_ he thought. _This place is rubbish and I know it._

"General Mundi!" he called over the comlink to Ki Adi Mundi, the Cerean Jedi master who stood nearby. "We can't hold this place much longer! We need support!"

"Stand by," the calm voice of the older Jedi came over the comm. "We'll be with you shortly."

_Easy for him to say,_ Neville thought. As another volley of blaster fire hailed towards him and his troops, he raised his blue sabre and blocked them all, before sparing a glance for his clones. Each and every one of them had proven himself a staunch ally and loyal friend, and Neville hated the thought of them dying like this. He resolved to fight harder for them, knowing full well they would always do so for him…

--

**Saleucami.**

Jedi Knight Draco Malfoy blocked the hail of blaster fire and spun his emerald bladed lightsabre in an arc that deflected it back to the source.

"You'll have to wake up earlier than that, tin man!" he yelled at the super-battle-droid that attacked him. Just then, a destroyer droid started rolling towards him, and he raised his sabre, grimacing – he hated these things; they were a pain in the ass to hold off and next to impossible to wreck.

Just then, he heard a noise and sensed a disturbance in the Force, and he rolled aside – as a Clone missile flew into the droideka, blasting it apart.

"Yes!" he yelled. "Give the clone a medal!" he added over his shoulder, before running back into the fray; useful and brave troopers these clones, and brave men. He hated the thought of what this war would have been like without them; he himself would have been killed for a start, and if nothing else mattered, he himself did…

--

**The skies above Coruscant.**

Harry loved flying, be it on a Firebolt, or in a Delta Seven "Jedi Starfighter". He clicked the joystick into a roll and manoeuvred through a hail of Vulture Droid fire. Beside him, Ginny and Ron flew in formation, Ginny in another Jedi Starfighter, and Ron in an updated Jedi Interceptor (Ron preferred them because he felt closer to the action in the updated cockpit). Harry picked a Vulture off and then followed another one, sending in a call for reinforcement while he was at it.

"Ron, how you doing?" he radioed to his friend.

_"Apart from the Vulture's, the fact that I keep unconsciously looking over at my little sister to make sure she isn't blown apart, and the fact that my artoo unit is a twat,"_ Ron replied, sounding mildly annoyed,_ "brilliant mate, how's yourself?"_

"All the better for having you here," Harry smiled. "Hermione, come in."

Hermione was on Harry's flagship the _Nimbus_, an Acclamator class battleship that was currently giving supporting fire on the left flank.

_"_Nimbus_ here, Harry," _she replied. _"What's up?"_

"That Banking Clan comn-ship is giving too much support to the enemies line," Harry put in. "Launch an assault on it, we'll back you up."

_"We've taken damage," _Hermione argued. _"We can't hold out in a –"_

"Just bloody do it!" Harry yelled. "Let me worry about damage. Green group, report!"

No reply. His pilot commander, Bob, must have been taking fire, or dead already. "Green group, any survivors, this is General Potter, need supporting fire for assault on Banking Clan comn ship, come in."

No reply still, so Harry sighed. "Looks like it's just us, guys," he comned to Ginny and Ron.

_"Just what I always wanted to do,"_ Ron called back_. "Launch a suicide attack run on evil bankers."_

_"Lighten up,"_ Ginny said_. "You make it sound like a hard job."_

"Don't get overconfident," Harry called. "_Nimbus,_ launch attack!"

The Acclamator opened fire, raining death on the Banking Clan vessel. Harry launched a Proton Torpedo into the ships stern and Ginny picked off a couple of cannons. Ron meanwhile…

_"Ron, pull up ,you won't make that run!"_ Harry heard Ginny say. Ron was launching an attack run on the enemy ships main turret defences.

_"I'll hold it!"_ the young Jedi replied, even as the turret launched a fresh hail of fire at him.

"Ron!" Harry called. And then it happened.

Ron's wing was blasted off, followed by his other wing. He started spinning out of control, just as the Acclamator's main cannon broke the comn ship in two. Harry lost site of the crippled fighter and swore.

_"Did you find him?" _Hermione's voice came through, tight and worried. Harry blinked and looked as two Jedi Starfighters – no, Interceptors, one red, one yellow – flew past the wreckage and towards a Trade Federation ship covered in Vultures. He then caught site of Ron's interceptor, drifting and helpless.

"Got him. Sending co ordinates," Harry said. He barely registered Hermione's relief, palpable through the Force, but he silently thanked the energy field that he hadn't just lost another good friend.

--

**Coruscant, some time later.**

Obi Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker's successful assault on the _Invisible Hand_ and their rescue of Chancellor Palpatine would make excellent bedtime stories in the years to come, Harry thought. It was one of those things that made Harry doubly certain that yes, he was indeed living in the age of Heroes.

The war, he thought to himself, would soon be over now. Although it had been a difficult struggle, and many of the outer worlds still belonged to droid armies, General Grievous was being hunted down by Kenobi as he thought, and Dooku had died on the _Invisible Hand_ – Harry spared a though for the fallen Jedi, the killer of Castor and who knew how many others. He had deserved, perhaps, his fate.

Ron was still in the infirmary, having lost an eye in his cockpit. Hermione would take him home once he was well enough to return there. It was now that Harry had a leave of absence in which to contemplate home for himself.

Home.

Where was home? Here, or the Temple at Hogwarts? Well, that was easy. It was, in a way, both.

His children – he had not seen them since his last leave, three months ago, and he missed them terribly. He knew Ginny felt the same way. And now, he decided, would be a good time to go home. He smiled, and went to find Ginny.

--

Unfortunately, the same thought of home appealed to another. A darker presence than the amiable and kind Jedi Potter.

"He will wish to return to his home," Darth Mortis said to his master. "To see that his children are safe."

"You may well be right, Lord Mortis," his master said, the malevolent presence at his side. "I will send you there with your Clone Legion, the 122nd. I want you to execute Order 66 there a little ahead of schedule. I meanwhile will execute the last stages of my plan to bring young Skywalker to our side."

"As you say, master," Mortis nodded, and he left the meeting place, before heading to Clone Barracks. He had an old friend to visit.

--

Mace Windu was on a mission, an important one; Skywalker had just told him about Darth Sidious – Chancellor Palpatine, the Sith Lord. Reeling from this betrayal, Mace had brought with him three of the finest swordsmen the order had to combat this threat.

But there was something else, something wrong – he sensed the figure before he saw him, a dark figure walking down the corridor. The figure nodded at him in respect, then walked away.

For some reason, Mace sensed a shatterpoint about the man – a strange shatterpoint two, for unlike many, it wasn't a bad thing if the man shattered, but a good thing; like a darkness struggling not to waver before the light.

Mace shrugged; it didn't matter. As he walked into the Chancellor's room, and prepared himself, he realised; this was a shatterpoint too.

This fight would decide the fate of a cosmos.

--

Ron had no special skill in the Force, beyond that which al Jedi have. He could not sense shatterpoints, he could not submit himself to the Force the way Obi Wan Kenobi could…

And yet he sensed it. The decision that was brewing, the coming storm. The fight that was happening in the Chancellors office. Somehow, he sensed every single thing that was about to occur, and it terrified him; but, he was a Jedi. He might not have been the most skilled Jedi, nor was he yet fully healed – he had yet to completely adjust to his new eye, and his metal arm was a little dented – but he was a Jedi, and he knew what he had to do.

"'Mione!" he called. "Hermione! Get in here, now!"

When his wife ran in, he knew he was in time; she would always be there for him.

"I need you to open a portal to our world," he said to her quickly. "Somewhere secluded, and quickly!"

"What?" she asked, confused. "What are you talking about Ronald?"

Ron gasped when he sensed what came next, the sudden shock of a powerful presence he had believed unkillable suddenly leaving this world forever.

"Just do it! Mace Windu just died! The Sith have control of the Senate!" he yelled. "Somewhere secluded. Now! I'll get Harry and the others!"

"Why not just open it at Hogwarts?" Hermione asked. "And don't bother looking for Harry, he left for his leave, he's there now."

"Because the Sith are sending troops to Hog -!" Ron began, but then Hermione's words hit him, just as his words hit her. "Harry's at Hogwarts?"

"With Ginny and Luna," Hermione said, her voice quiet as the grave. "The Sith are sending _troopers_ there?"

"They're killing the Jedi," Ron said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "We have to evacuate."

--

"Foris Patefacio," Darth Mortis said, opening the portal. He ordered Commander Tank, his old friend from earlier in the war, forward. His legion, the 122nd, marched into the portal, two thousand Clones ready for war.

When they had finished marching, he followed them through, and stared for what he thought would be the final time at the great gate of Hogwarts.

"It ends tonight," he said. "Come on."

He marched into the Great Hall, where Remus Lupin, non-Jedi but ally of them and Headmaster of Hogwarts, and his deputy Sirius Black, were waiting for him. Several Jedi walked around behind them, dressed in Hogwarts-affiliation coloured Jedi robes.

When Lupin saw Mortis' face, he gasped.

"Jedi Voraainsar?" he said. "But… but… Harry said you were killed in the war, fighting Dooku!"

Darth Mortis fixed Lupin with a stare.

"You mistake my status for your own, Headmaster," he said, igniting his blood red blade and impaling Lupin where he stood. The Clones behind him opened fire on everyone, killing Sirius Black and the Jedi, who could not ignite their sabre's in time, and died quickly. Almost immediately, an alarm sounded; the castle was threatened.

"Kill them all," Darth Mortis said. "Leave nothing standing."


	9. Coruscant 2, Hogwarts 2

**Mygeeto.**

Neville Longbottom was about to die, and he knew it. The attack he was launching was suicide – there were too many of them, too many launching blaster bolts at him and his men, too many firing at him…

He sensed something, something odd. As he deflected bolts as they came, he noted that some of them were… blue? _Clone_ rifles?

His last thought was, "when did the clones start missing?" but then, he realised.

Clones never miss.

A blaster bolt caught him and he knew no more.

**--**

**Coruscant.**

Ron Weasley hated being too late. He hated being too late for lessons, he hated being too late to help someone…

He hated being too late to save lives.

The noises reached him, one after another, deaths and shouts, Jocasta Nu challenging someone… who was it? And then, the yells of disbelief, the noises that told him, utterly, totally, life was over.

"Skywalker?"

"Anakin, what are you…?"

"Master Skywalker?"

Still, Hermione was getting the younglings out, and a few of the older Jedi too. Ron knew that, even if he had been too late in his warnings, Hermione was always on time, always right when he was wrong.

And he would always be with her.

--

**Saleucami.**

Draco Malfoy stared into the face of death.

Selfish and stupid he might have been, once, but he was Jedi, and he could accept that death was a constant and that it would have caught up to him eventually, and besides which the pain was going now…

But he had to admit, he never thought the face of his death would be a Clone Trooper.

--

**Coruscant.**

Mace Windu was dead. He thought. He had to be, didn't he? He had been electrocuted and his arm had been cut off by _Anakin Skywalker_, the traitor, and he had flown through the air…

And yet, here he was, thinking.

Alive.

He could hear his breathing, and to him it was the sweetest sound in the galaxy.

And then, an airy voice floated through to him, soft and calm.

"You can open your eyes you know."

He did so.

He was sitting in an open-topped taxi and in front of him, holding a little wooden stick, was a woman with blonde hair – young, but her eyes spoke of great wisdom.

"Regrowing bones and skin is very difficult to do," she said. "I hope you're grateful."

Mace blinked and looked at the hand on the end of his formerly handless arm.

"I – how is that possible? Why didn't you do it for Skywalker? What the…?" he blurted out, more shocked than he had been in twenty years.

"Anakin looked better with a robot arm, you don't," the woman said, as if it was obvious. "And everyone can do this where I come from."

"You're – you're one of Potter's Jedi?" Mace asked.

"Castor Voraainsar's former apprentice," she said. "Luna Lovegood."

"I'd heard of you," Mace said. "But I heard you refused active service for a long time."

"After Castor died," Luna confirmed, with a slightly more downbeat quality to her voice. "perhaps it would have been better if he had."

"I'm sorry?" Mace asked.

"I'll answer your questions later," Luna said to him. "Right now, we have to get to my home."

"Why?" Mace asked.

Luna didn't answer, but seemed to pay a glance to something on her left in the passenger seat.

"A long story," she said.

--

**Hogwarts.**

This was not going as planned.

Apart from Lupin, Black and the few Jedi slaughtered at the start, his men had made no progress, and neither had he. None of them had found anyone, despite searching.

"They're hiding and running," he muttered.

"Sir?" Tank, his commander said.

"We won't find anything," Mortis said to him. "We might as well set charges and leave."

"You aren't going anywhere," a calm, upper class voice said, and Mortis smiled. He turned around as Percy Weasley, Severus Snape, Alastor Moody and several other Jedi stood to face him.

"Hello," he said to the assembled Jedi. "I imagine you think you can stop me."

"We know we can stop you," Percy stated, calmly. "Surrender, and you might just live."

"I offer the same choice," Mortis said, and then he tilted his head. "oh wait – no I don't." And then he moved.

The speed at which the Sith moved his sword left none of the watching Troopers in any doubt. They saw the moves that Castor Voraainsar had used of old, and the moves that were new, and they saw how effective it proved to be. In seconds, the Jedi were all dead.

"I wasn't even trying," Mortis sighed. "I wish a real challenge would come up, once in a while."

"Wish granted," a new voice, deep and hard, said. Mortis blinked, his eyes widened in surprise, and he turned.

Harry Potter stood there, outer robe discarded, emerald lightsabre gleaming.

--

**Coruscant.**

Hermione had saved eighty three Jedi Padawans, younglings and Knights, out of over four hundred Jedi in the whole Temple. Still, they lived.

Now, she was waiting for Ron, who had promised to return and meet her here. And he never broke his promises to her.

And then, there he was, running, two Padawans (Whie Malreaux and Bene, she noted), running behind him, dodging Clone blaster bolts.

A moment later, they were standing right next to her, the Padawans racing through the portal. Hermione hugged Ron tightly.

"You made it," she said.

"Have I ever let you down before?" he asked.

"Yes – Felucia," she smiled.

"Oh c'mon, that was ages ago! Anyway," Ron said, suddenly becoming all serious. "We have to go. Cin Drallig and Serra Keto died just to let us escape."

"Who's killing them, Clones?" Hermione asked.

But Ron didn't need to answer, for then he came, a black hole in the Force that took her breath away like a chill wind.

Anakin Skywalker.

Traitor.

"Come back here, cowards!" he yelled, swinging his sabre and charging at them.

They ran into the portal, and it closed, but the look in Skywalker's eyes stayed with them.

The look of a monster.

--

**Hogwarts.**

"I mourned you," Harry snarled. "You were dead and I mourned you."

"I'm touched, Harry," mortis said, slightly serious but mostly sarcastic. "You mean a high and mighty Jedi actually let himself feel emotion?"

"You were my friend," Harry said, gesturing with his lightsabre. "You were my brother in all but name. We grew up together, we fought alongside one another, and we became Jedi alongside one another. I've already saved you from the dark side once!"

"Have you?" Castor said. "Kill a Horcrux, and Castor is suddenly safe from the dark side forevermore, huzzah? Sorry Harry, life isn't like that. I walked down this path of my own will, because there was nothing else left."

"That isn't true," Harry said. "The Jedi were with you, always."

"The Jedi disapproved of my entire relationship with her!" Castor snarled. "We could have been happy if they had let us be, but they were down on us like a ton of plasticrete!"

"Would she have been happy with you now?" harry asked, the anger gone from his voice as a growing sadness at the fate of his one time friend took its place.

"It doesn't matter how she would have felt about it," Castor – Mortis – asserted. "She's gone, and so is Castor Voraainsar. I am Darth Mortis, death incarnate. I will rule this world. You will die."

He ignited his sabre; a blood red weapon of doom that promised death in every twitch, and with a sigh, Harry angled his own weapon to the traditional opening stance of Soresu, waiting for Castor to make the first move. Holding his sabre in the two handed guard of Ataro, Castor dipped his head, then charged at Harry.

Their sabre's clashed.

Two men.

One in black robes, one in cream.

One with a blood red lightsabre, one with an emerald green one.

One a servant of darkness, one of light.

So similar they were, two men raised the same way, living almost identical lives, and yet they were so different; one had felt love and lost it, and fallen farther than he could ever have hoped to return from, one had kept it and felt ascended from it.

They were separated by a gulf as wide as the space between stars, yet close as two grains of sand on a beach.

They clashed, again and again, their sabres spinning; they were warriors, Gods of war, their duel ripping the battlements they fought on to ribbons as they clashed, Vaapad and Ataro versus Soresu.

There would be no quarter asked.

There would be no quarter given.


	10. Hogwarts 3

Thrust, parry, riposte, slash, block, parry, parry, slash, clash… the rhythm of battle went back and forth, the two men spinning, twirling, ducking, parrying, and all the while the Clone Troopers stood paralysed, waiting for instructions from a man who no longer had any interest in giving them.

For what did Castor Voraainsar have to lose? His eyes blazed yellow with the venom of hatred that is the mark of all Sith. His sabre was red with the blood of innocence lost. Every move he made, he made in anger.

_If once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny._

Yoda had been right.

There was no way back now.

--

Luna Lovegood led Mace up the stairs of Hogwarts, using the Force to cloud the minds of the Clone Troopers that filled the halls. Mace's confusion was a beacon in the Force – she began to wonder just how badly the Jedi had hit his head when he landed in her car.

"I don't understand," he said to her, glancing around the unfamiliar hall. "What are we doing here? What are the Clones doing here?"

Luna didn't answer, but cocked her head, listening to the voices.

_Your former Master is in grave peril,_ the man's voice said. _He lies on a precipice. He mistakes his grief and sadness for true submergence in the dark side._

_I should never have begun anything with him,_ the female voice said. _If I had known…_

_Known what?_ The man's voice asked. _Known that you would make him happy? Known he would die and kill for you? You've done more good than harm for him._

_But still… _

"Sorry, you aren't helping," Luna said to the two of them. "None of this tells me how to stop him and save him."

"Stop and save who?!" Mace said from behind her, exasperated.

"Sh, don't interrupt!" Luna said, then she cocked her head again, and then, after a moment, she smiled.

"Oh well, that's going to be easy!" she said. "Come on then!"

--

Castor Voraainsar blocked another blow from Harry, and then smiled, making a faux salute.

"You're doing well," he said, half serious, half mocking. "Try harder and you might…"

The next blow struck his robotic arm, smashing it to pieces. Castor staggered back.

"You…" he laughed. "Hah! You win, Harry. You win…"

Harry spun his blade and aimed it right at Castors chest.

"Give me a reason not to kill you," he said, slowly emphasising every word. "One reason."

"There isn't one," Castor sneered. "Do it, Harry. Do it."

Harry blinked, and hesitated. He pulled the arm back.

_Don't._

He paused, as the voice he had not heard since he was a small child came to him.

_Don't, Harry._

"Qui Gon?" he murmured. "You're…?"

Castor took the opportunity to summon his sabre to his good hand and begin attacking again, but in his weakened state, he was easy pickings, and Harry sliced the blade in two, before aiming the sword back at his former friend's heart.

"Don't!" came a more concrete voice, and then, Luna Lovegood and Mace Windu raced into the room. Clones aimed rifles at them, but Luna held up a hand, and they dropped them again.

"Hello, Castor," she said, her voice tinged with a certain sadness. "You _are_ alive."

"Luna Lovegood," Castor Voraainsar sneered. "My old Padawan. I should have realised you'd have survived."

"Perhaps," she said, inclining her head, unsmiling. "But then, if you had, you wouldn't be here. You'd have run away, like the Sith always run from justice."

Castor stopped smiling. Luna blinked once, frowned, and then ignited her azure lightsabre and threw it right into him.

--

_Castor blinked._

_He was dressed in Jedi robes, unsullied and simple. Opposite him was a man with his hair, his face and his smile, wielding a red lightsabre and pointing it right at him._

_"What is this?" he asked._

_"This," a familiar voice, one etched into his soul forever, spoke, from his side, "is the mental plane."_

_Castor didn't dare believe his own ears. He turned his head, slowly, and there, resplendent in Jedi robes, yellow blade ignited, was Kara Vincennes, smiling her old smile._

_"I'm dead," Castor said._

_"Oh no," Kara said, the same smile upon her face. "You aren't dead. Not yet, anyway."_

_"But _you_ are," Castro pointed out._

_"Oh, yes," Kara admitted cheerfully, "but you aren't me – and I'm not you, which, considering him," she nodded at the duplicate Castor with the red blade, "is probably a good thing."_

_"Kara, I," Castor began, filled with the urge to repent to her, admit his faults to her right there and then, but then she held up a hand._

_"Nothing to forgive," she said. "The stain that is Darth Mortis is not you – it's an echo of you, of what you are and what you feel."_

_Castor looked over at his doppelganger. "Is that what _he_ is then?"_

_"Yup," she said. "And that's what we have to face."_

_"You mean?" he said, and then she handed him a replica of his old blue lightsabre, which felt warm to the touch. He ignited it, and looked right over at the Mortis figure._

_"Together," she said. "We defeat him, and you go home."_

_"I go home?" he repeated, looking at her in dismay. "But I want to stay here, with you!"_

_"You'll come back," she smiled. "One day. I promise. Now…"_

_She raised the blade in her hand, and charged. Castor looked right at her, and followed._

_--_

"We heal the damage to his body, and Kara heals the damage to his soul," Luna finished, having explained everything she could to the assembled Jedi Knights. She was using her wand to restore Castor's lost arm.

"He's a Sith," Mace Windu said. "After all he's done, he has to die."

"That," Luna said sharply to him, "is precisely why Anakin turned. Because you were such an uncompromising Jedi."

"But will Kara be able to restore Castor?" Harry said. "Master Yoda always said…"

"We'll know…" Luna said, and then she paused, listening for advice. "We'll know in a moment. Kara's returned to the Force."

Castor stirred, his fists clenching, and then, his eyes snapped open.


	11. Preparation for Confrontation

**Coruscant.**

It was not an unusual sight, in retrospect. It was, after all, a LAAT transport, coloured in the blunt, gunmetal silver of the 122nd legion Clones. Clone ships were everywhere these days.

It landed on the building's main platform – the building in question being the government offices of the former Republic, where the office Chancellor Palpatine was.

Emperor Palpatine, of the newly created Empire.

Darth Sidious, lord of the Sith and mastermind of the near extinction of the Jedi.

Several robed figures left the vessel, while a dozen Clones took up holding positions, ready to shoot down anything that came for them. The robes in question ranged from desert sand to deep brown in colour, and there was a mixture of men and women in the group.

The robed figures, from left to right, looking at them as the approached the doorway, were Mace Windu, Luna Lovegood, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Ginny Weasley.

Then another figure stepped out of the LAAT, brown robes flowing around him, red hair with streaks of aged blonde eminent, proof of the horror and hatred that had filled the man's life for years.

Castor Voraainsar looked up towards the Chancellor's office, and his grim face hardened.

"Castor?" Harry said to him, and the redeemed Jedi looked at him with a smile.

"We're going to finish this today, Harry," he said. "The Sith must be purged."

"His skill is great," Mace Windu said, holding up his hand – the hand Luna Lovegood had restored to him – in warning. "I don't know whether he let me defeat him. You'll have to be very careful how you handle him."

"We will be," Castor said. "Hary, with me. The rest of you stay here. You will know if we fail."

The others nodded, grim faced and ready to die for the mission.

Harry smiled at Castor grimly.

"Just like old times," he said. "You and me against the world."

"Just like old times," Castor repeated, no smile tending that haunted visage now. "Come on."

And together, the two ascended to meet their destiny…


End file.
